Confessions
by Misame
Summary: My first piece of creative writing in years, and my very first fan fic. Post Blight, f/Amell is left to pick up the pieces of her decisions. An angst aplenty start but adventure is sure to come.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One.**

"**You stand near the sink,  
while you're mixing a drink.  
You think you don't want to pass out,  
where your roommates will find you again."**

**Bright Eyes - a line allows progress a circle does not.**

_Misame felt all the pain and desire to die again. Her face was burnt by the blue flame of the arch demon, but she managed to keep her concentration. Her hands flew wildly above her head, and she felt the last of the lyriums power draining from her. The demon seemed to scream in agony as both she and Morrigan hit it with electric bolts at the same time. And then suddenly she was moving, running towards the demon with all her speed, past the few remaining dwarves, past Zevran who was twirling his dagger and longsword above his head at tremendous speed, past Alistair, a look of sheer determination on his face as he hit the beast with his shield. She unsheathed Spellweaver and saw her opening. Running the blade from the demon's chin to the bottom of its neck, she felt the tough skin of the beast tear against her momentum as she was covered in it's blood and blight. The demon crashed next to her, almost hitting her with the wall of muscle. As she was about to pierce the dragon's skull with her sword she felt a restraining hand on hers, and someone softly speak her name. The world jolted and spun. The fade blurred into a mess of red and purple. She heard her name again. She awoke._

Zevran stood in her bed chambers softly stroking her hair and cooing her name in his thick, lush accent. She sat bolt up-right and realised her fitful dreams had been just as physical in the real world as they had in the fade. The sheets stuck to her sweat drenched skin and wrapped around herself to the point where it pained her to sit up. Morning light slashed through the small glass window, right into her face and she squinted against it.

"Ah, my dear, it would appear you have been dreaming again, no?" She rubbed her eyes, confused, and looked at the elf.

"How did you get in here?" she questioned groggily. Zevran's eyes crackled with mirth.

"I have been training my lock-picking skills. All the better to rescue distressed beauties from their nasty subconscious." His hand ran down from her messy red curls to the smooth ivory whiteness of her cheek and then her neck and she suddenly became aware of her nakedness. She swatted him away and started to untangle herself from her sheets.

"So, tell me, my sleeping lovely. What is it that disturbs your dreams this time? Is it the arch demon or the ex-templar?" She turned her head sharply to look at him, her green eyes narrowed as she spoke,

"If you want to be useful pass me a bottle of lyrium, they are in the bottom draw in the cabinet behind you."

"Ah, my lady, that drawer is locked..."

"Something to keep you occupied whilst I get changed, my lecherous friend." He smiled at her lewdly, but quickly set to work on the meaningless task. He had felt her wrath in the form of flame bursting out of her fingertips before, and he was not likely to provoke it again.

Whilst his back was turned she slipped on her small clothes and a simple mages robe that she used for training. She suddenly remembered what today's events were going to entail, and a small moan escaped her lips.

"My sweet, I know I am desirable, but you must save your moans for later. People will talk." He smiled at her. He had made quick work on her cabinet lock and was now looking at a vast array of lyrium potions before him. "Woah, that is quite a collection! Is there currently a shortage of lyrium or something because..."

"Shut up Zev and pass me two, greater." Zevran shrugged, he was not one to comment on over indulgence but he began to feel the pangs of concern for the beautiful mage.

She drank them both quickly, and then looked her companion in the eye.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this Zev, I mean, I know you said you wanted to stay at my side, but you really don't need to do this..."

"Ahh my pretty flower, do not worry about me. I want to be a Grey Warden. Though,yes, my life span will be much less, I assure myself that the women will be a lot more easy, and the pay far better than that of an Antivan Crow."

"If you are sure."

"I have never been more sure about anything. Except perhaps my desire to slip into your bed and fight your nightmares with my passion." He raised an eyebrow, but her face was impassive. His lewdness had not been able to bring either a smile nor a blush to her cheeks since...

"Let's get some breakfast then, my Antivan friends, and prepare for the task ahead of us."

Zevran followed behind the warden, his concern growing with every step they took. He had heard what Alistair had told her that night, but he never believed it could still hurt her this much. Up until then he thought nothing could crumble their courageous and seemingly fearless leader. He shook the thought away, and instead concentrated on the shape and movement of her hips in that tight fitting robe.

Misame had been glad to stay in Denerim. Most of her companions were at least waiting for the wedding celebrations tomorrow, and though the thought of attending them sickened her to her stomach, she was glad of the merriment of others, deciding to use it to fill up the gaping whole inside her heart. Arl Howle's estate had been granted to the Grey Wardens, and although there were only two left in Ferelden, she has quickly made it into a suitable training ground for aspiring warriors and rouges. After the defeat of the darkspawn horde there was much work that needed to be done but she had found that her new status of Hero of Ferelden had sent people flocking to the Arls old estate, begging to be allowed to repay her for her sacrifice, a few even begging to be trained as Grey Wardens. She had yet to turn a single person away, and the house was now over crowded with eager men and women, cleaning, rebuilding, cooking and training. The grand hall of the house had been set out with six long lines of tables, and one shorter one to the left. There was still a gaping whole in the ceiling, but the lack of rain had made it unimportant.

The familiar faces at the table that she walked to lifted her spirits as they did every morning. Leliana was deep in conversation with Oghren about tomorrows wedding, Sten sat stony faced, as always, playing with his porridge as if it had caused him some sort of offence. Sithis, her faithful mabari war hound was curled up underneath the table at Sten's feet. She sat in a vacant seat next to Leliana and as she did so her thoughts crept to Morrigan. She had found an unlikely friendship with the fellow mage and missed her now more than ever knowing that the apsotate's hatred of Alistair would certainly of helped soothe her heartache. So saddened by these thoughts was she that the change in conversational tone and topic breezed over her head. The sudden silence of her companions jerked her from her thoughts.

"Sorry, I was a million miles away."

"I was just wondering if any of the trainees will be taking part in your secret ritual today?" Leliana repeated. Misame had thought of the question long and hard the previous night, and discussed it with each of them, valuing their opinion on the matter as much as her own.

"No, I have decided to wait until the wardens from Orlais make it to Denerim. They know more than I do about the matter."

"But surely there is still a need for Grey Wardens? Ferelden is defenceless if the darkspawn rally..." Leliana began but dropped her train of thought. "Is this ritual that dangerous?"

"You know I can't tell you anything Leliana." The bard shrugged and turned back to her lumpy porridge. Misame could sense the disapproval of her decision among her friends, but she did not mind. She remembered so vividly her own joining and would not allow the same fate that befell Ser Jory to come to any of the trainees, knowing that they were driven to her gate's more by the epic tales of her conquest than any real desire to become Grey Wardens. The conversation returned back to tomorrows wedding.

"So, who is going to escort you tomorrow Misame? Everyday I am hounded by letters from the nobility asking the same question. It seems to be the height of court gossip!" Leliana smiled at her. "I heard that even the Teryn of Highever has asked for your company. He is a very handsome young man, indeed." The mage felt the now familiar nausea rise through her body and she pushed her breakfast away. Zevran gave Leliana a warning look, which the bard did not notice. She continued her girlish prattle. "But personally I think the best choice would be Bann Teagan. Did you see the way he looked at you when we saved Redcliffe. I think he is smitten, and such a charmer." Leliana glanced at Misame's face, taking in her grim and set features. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Come now, my friend, you must get over Alistair. What better way to do it than surround yourself with handsome, powerful men who want nothing but to whisk you off your feet."

Misame knew what she said was the truth, but she could not imagine herself with any other man. Try as she might to picture another man holding her, laughing with her, kissing her, making love to her, their faces always seem to morph into the strong, handsome features of her templar. But he was not her's or a templar any more. She blanked her mind as she met Leliana's intent gaze.

"You are right, as always." She sighed, "Send a messenger to Bann Teagan, telling him I will be honoured to accompany him to tomorrows...celebrations." Leliana let off a delighted sequel and jumped up from her chair, running off no doubt to tell the Bann herself. Him and the whole of Ferelden, she thought.

"Right, back to business," she addressed the remainder of her allies. They looked at her expectantly. "Sten and Oghren you will take over the training of the recruits today. I want them to spar with each other. Then each of them will face both of you separately. I had hoped by now they would be training in groups, but they are not ready yet. Push them hard today and reward them with a day to themselves tomorrow." Oghren and Sten nodded at her, and she once again felt an overwhelming gratitude to them for staying this short while. There was yet to be any mage recruits and though she was a trained Arcane Warrior, her sword skills were intrinsic to her use of magic. She scolded herself for not yet making the trip the Circle Tower in the hunt for new recruits and remembered how she had been sorely tempted to be there rather than at the wedding. Leliana had changed her mind, insisting that attending tomorrow would help her on the road to recovery. As Oghren and Sten left the now emptying hall, to round up the troops, a page dressed in the purple of the royal livery appeared at the end of the table. She looked at him questioningly, and he handed her a note, sealed with red wax, the Theirin coat of arms imprinted onto it. Her heart jumped into her throat, and her face drained of blood. Zevran dismissed the page, as she tore open the letter, hoping, praying that Alistair had changed his mind. Her heart sank back into place as she read the letter, and it was replaced with a bitter bile of scorn and hatred. The letter was brief and to the point;

_To Grey Warden Misame,_

_ I shall be attending Zevran's joining_,_ I shall be there after midday._

_ Alistair._

She was outraged and hurt that the familiar hand could speak so coldly. Her anger overspilled into physical rage, and the letter erupted into burning hot flames in her hand, the now hot wax ran down her arm. Zevran reacted faster than she did, dousing the fire before it singed the table clothe. He vaulted the table and landed primly next to her, taking her scolded arm in his hand and examining it. Misame did not react to any of this, a mixture of adrenaline and fury coursed through her veins blocking out the pain.

"I take it that the letter was from the hated templar?" Zevran queried as he tried to physically coerce her into leaving her seat for the make shift healing room. She refused to budge. Her teeth gritted, she looked Zeveran in the eye.

"It seems that you shall be having a royal joining my friend." The rouges face twisted into a bemused half smile.

"Well I suppose I should be honoured that such an important noble could take time out of his busy schedule for a lowly assassin." The sarcasm in his voice shook her out of her state and she let out a whimper of pain, clutching at her burnt hand. She stood and allowed Zevran to steer her out of the hall.

Zevran insisted on applying the ice balm to her hand, peeling off pieces of burnt wax with a dexterous and soft touch. She stopped him applying a bandage however, and instead cast an inept healing spell that lifted her physical pain.

"I don't understand why he's coming," she fumed when the process was done. "He has no good reason to be here. I don't need him any more." Zevran arched an eyebrow, but bit his tongue. It was not that he thought the mage was not capable of looking after herself, she had proved to him time and time again that her diminutive frame and soft features were merely exterior. He had seen her slay strong men and hideous darkspawn with barely a flick of her fingers. He had heard her at night though, unknowingly screaming out the templar's name, begging him to take her back, bargaining with the fade Alistair, pleading for just one more night in his arms. "He thinks he can just break my heart and then wonder back here as if nothing has happened, without even asking my permission. With no question about how I think or feel, who does he think he is?" her shouts reverberated around the small room and unadorned room.

"You know I have grave doubts about the templar's ability to think at all" Zevran licked his lips and fanned the flame of her anger. "Maybe the idea of Kingship has gone to his head but it is more likely that he sees it as his duty as a Grey Warden."

"He is not a Grey Warden anymore, we don't hold titles, or have lands. There is just honour and duty."

"I must say you don't advertise it very well to possible recruits," Zevran's eyes winked with mirth.

"Oh Zev, I didn't mean it like..."

He laughed, "I know you didn't, my dear. I made up my mind that day we were ambushed by my old friends, The Crows, the way you protected me so vigorously and with such passion. I realised that I owed you my life and I will spend the rest of it serving you," he moved his face closer to hers so she could feel his breathe, "in any way you desire," he purred. Misame rolled her eyes and went to stand, but the elf had his hands firmly on the arms of the chair. She half thought that he was about to kiss her, she would not put it past the sneaky elf, but he merely held her gaze and whispered,

"You are stronger than he will ever be, _ma beauté courageuse_." She felt his hand graze her arm as he moved backwards, sending unexpected sparks throughout her body. Attempting to shrug it off she delved into her pocket and felt the reassuring coolness of the lesser lyrium potion she kept on her in case of emergency. She uncorked it expertly and downed the bottle, feeling a warm sense of power serge over her. She closed her eyes, relishing the increasingly fleeting sensation that the potion offered her, every part of her coursed with energy and she relaxed into it, her sadness and anger dulled. Her eyes opened and she felt ready to face the man she loved, and the possibility of losing another friend.


	2. Chapter 2

'**All I see are dark grey clouds  
In the distance moving closer with every hour  
So when you ask, "Was something wrong?"  
That I think "you're damn right there is but we can't talk about it now.  
No, we can't talk about it now."'**

**Death Cab for Cutie- Tiny Vessels**

She had prepared the small room next to hers for the ritual, the heavily stained and dusty velvet curtains of the tiny window had been drawn and torches lit in their bracket's. She was unsure as to why she had done this but assured herself that the importance and secretive nature of the joining was reflected in the ambience of the room. There was a bed prepared in the corner, remembering her own reaction to the taint. She paced. The fear of loosing Zevran now seemed extremely real and she was unsure as to why she had agreed to let him go through with it. Sick of waiting she wondered next door and found herself habitually walking to the drawer Zevran had unpicked earlier. Rifling through the many bottles she found the potent potion she so sorely needed, uncorking it and downing it in one massive gulp. She wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her robe and licked her lips, savouring the pungent taste. She knew that she was addicted, but that didn't mean that she was ready to stop. Her mind soon drained of all anxiety and she thought only of her duty. If I can live through today she thought, then I can live though tomorrow. This had become a mantra for the young mage ever since the night after the landsmeet, when her whole world had been shattered. She blocked out that thought, it could only lead down a path that she was unwilling to take. She heard a soft knock on her open door, and turned to see an elven boy she had hired at the beginning of the month. He seemed extremely agitated, and as he spoke;

"Umm, milady...the ummm, the King is here. He is waiting in the hall."

"Thank you, Gelden, please send him up, and find Zevran for me please, and send him up too." The boy's eyes widened in shock that she, the hero of Ferelden, had remembered his name. He ran from the room, and Misame toyed with the idea of drinking another potion. Deciding against it she locked the draw, and turned to her vanity table. Her tired face looked back at her as she analysed her reflection. She sighed and quickly pinned her knotted and tangled hair into place. Grabbing a pot of make up that Leliana had gave her to cover up the evidence of her sleepless nights, she brushed herself lightly with the powder all over her face. Still unhappy with her appearance she fumbled a little longer with the Orlesian paints. She felt better behind this mask, as though she had slipped into a new body. She found herself wishing again for the company of the apostate whom she was sure would understand her troubled feelings. She smiled for the first time in weeks, thinking of Morrigan, who she felt had been terribly misunderstood by the other members of the group. Her thoughts of their many conversations, mostly about the ignorance of the Circle and Chantry, were interrupted by Zeverans voice floating in from the hallway,

"She was incredibly passionate and insatiable with very dirty mind. The things she was suggesting almost bought a blush to my cheeks I can tell you. She...."

"Shut up!" A familiar voice shouted. Her stomach did a somersault. Her pulse quickened as she stepped into the hallway.

She felt the confidence the lyrium gave her drain away. He stopped when he saw her and they stared at each other, she swallowed. The bile of anger and scorn rose up in her throat, she felt the desire to throw a fireball at the templar, to kick and punch him, and show him all the pain he had inflicted on her. Her hands balled into fists at her side and she felt her long nails draw blood on the palm of her hands. She didn't know how long they stood there in cold and stony silence, but she felt like it was a lifetime. Zevran was thankfully silent, enjoying the tense atmosphere. She finally spoke and was surprised at the coldness in her voice;

"My lord, it is an honour to have you in my house," she topped of her faux politeness with an incredibly sarcastic and low bow. Zevran almost toppled over in silent laugher.

"Misame I..."

"I am surprised you took the time out of your busy schedule to attend our lowly ritual, _your majesty_."Alistair's face crumbled and he looked at the floor. Her heart was screaming at her to stop this cruelty but the lyrium and adrenalin were taking over her mouth. "I hope your not taking too much time away from your pretty, and _fertile_ fiancée." His head snapped up at that word, and she sensed that she had crossed some invisible line. His anger was almost tangible but his templars discipline shone through and he replied through gritted teeth,

"I have a duty to the Grey Wardens..."

"No, my lord, you do not. You have a duty to your country and a duty to your Queen, but the duty you had to the Wardens dissolved when you took the crown." She knew just how to hurt him and the rush of satisfaction that she got from doing so shocked her. She opened her mouth to carry on her rampage but he spoke before she could say anything,

"Please, stop this..."His voice was cracking with emotion. Their eyes met and she closed her mouth.

"Oh, don't stop, you're so sexy when you angry,"Zevran laughed.

Misame turned on her heel and marched to the the ritual room, they all entered and Alistair closed the door. "Zev, before we do this I have to tell you what this ritual involves...."

"Actually, I think we need to talk about this first," Alistair interrupted. She glared at him.

"Go ahead, you're majesty."

"Please stop it Misame, you're acting like a child."

This stopped her dead she gritted her teeth, and felt her nails dig into the wounds of her palms again.

"I don't think that Zervran is a right choice for a Grey Warden." There was a long silence.

"Err...I am here you know..." said Zevran.

Misame glowered at Alistair, he had never questioned her decisions before now, always happy to let her lead in every aspect of their relationship. If he had disagreed he would still of let her make the final choice. He had in fact thrust leadership upon her, his seniority as a Warden ignored. She completely dropped her sarcastic politeness and tapped into her storage of raw anger that she had yet to vent to anyone. "How dare you," she whispered angrily, "how dare you. You cast your duty off and think you can just come back here and tell me how to lead. You forced me into this position, Alistair. We need Grey Wardens," she sighed. "The Grey Wardens will recruit anyone; maleficar, traitors, prisoners, apostates, tyrants, assassins....kings. Zevran has been a great help with training the new recruits, and I know he will make an excellent Grey Warden."

Alistair bowed his head, "I am sorry Misame I shouldn't have questioned your judgement."

"You have no right to question my judgement. I have not heard from you in a month and you presume to come back here and find me open to your suggestions. I am single handedly trying to organise training, recruiting, building work, shipments of supplies, I have put all my time and gold into making this place a viable headquarters. If Zevran hadn't been here, I'd of gone mad by now."

"I am so sorry, truly I am. I just thought that the joining isn't something to take lightly, and you shouldn't have to do it alone, especially with someone you care about. It could all go wrong and..."

Zevran cleared his throat, "Once again I am still here. As melodramatic and steamy as this is could you perhaps inform me of what it entails before I find out too many of the, ah, gory details." As she turned to face Zevran her anger ebbed away, she knew Alistair was right, if something happened to the Antivian she was not entirely sure she could bring herself to kill him. His friendship had passed all expectations she had when she'd let the rouge join the group, however lecherous his words were, his actions were compassionate and courageous. She placed her hand on his shoulder, and he clasped it in his own. "_Mon enchanteresse, _I am sure," he whispered to her and raised her hand to his lips, brushing his mouth against her fingers. She squeezed his hand, and he smiled at her. Misame felt a jolt of fear and she suppressed the urge to stop this altogether. She turned to the table behind her and took out three vials from her pocket and emptied two of them into an ornate silver cup. She put one drop of the precious arch demons blood into the cup, as she did this she spoke:

"The Grey Wardens ability to sense the darkspawn and the reason we are considered such an elitie group is because of the joining. We consume the blood of the darkspawn and bear the same taint they bear," She turned to face him the cup in her hands, his face was strong and determined. "I'm not going to lie to you Zev, not many survive the joining..."

"I have slaughtered enough darkspawn at your side to know how they taint people. I know the likelihood of my survival and yet I find my loyalty to you seems to overshadow this prospect. It is...strange." He looked her straight in the eye. She proffers him the cup, and he wraps his hands round her own. "Join us brother. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you,." Misame recited as she stared into Zevrans eyes. He whispered something to her in Antivian that she didn't quite hear, and quickly raised the cup to his mouth, drinking deeply. He stood looking at her for a moment, and then she felt his grip loosen on the cup. He fell. She put his arm over her shoulders before he hit the ground. "Alistair... help." she grunted and the templar rushed to her aid, picking Zevran up easily and placing him on the bed. Misame felt like her stomach had knotted, her eyes didn't leave his face and she felt tears coming. She let them flow silently down her face. Alistair saw this, and put his arm around her. She longed to turn into his warm strong chest, but she resisted. She did not know how long they stood there, but it felt like hours. When Zevrans eyes moved she rushed to his side, gripping his hand.

"Zev, can you hear me?" His eyes fluttered open, he looked at her and gave her a weak smile.

"Oh my head, that stuff is worse than Dwarven Ale," he said as he pulled himself up. She draws him into a tight hug. "Mmmm this certainly makes up for terrible nightmares."He pulled her closer into his embrace and ran his nose softly around the edge of his ear. Alistair shifted uncomfortably behind them as she pushed the elf out to arms length. "I am truly glad that your alive Zev."

"As am I, Antivan," said Alistar, begrudgingly. Zevran ignored him, still gazing at her.

"Well, I could not die on you, my beauty, there is much left undone."

"Umm.. I'd just like to say," started Alistair awkwardly. "Well...Thank you really, to both of you, you've done so well here." He turned to Misame, "I think...I think Duncan would be proud."

Before she could react the door to the room burst open, Leliana came through her cheeks flushed as she realised she was interrupting. "Oh I'm sorry, Geldern told me you were in here.."

"Come in, we are finished now anyway," said Misame secretly glad of the distraction of the bard.

"It is good to see you Alistair," Leliana smiled up at him, "All ready for your big day tomorrow? Aww our little templar all grown up." She hugged him briefly and pinched his cheek, he met her smile back with a weak one of his own. She took in her surroundings and let out a gasp, "Oh maker, is it the joining, I am so sorry to barge..."

"Don't worry Lil, we've finished anyway. Zevran is officially a Grey Warden." Leiliana gasps with delight and rushed to give Zevran a hug.

"Yes, this definitely makes up for the nightmares," he leered. She realised him and looked at Misame.

"I almost totally forgot! I came to give you this from Bann Teagan." She passed her a sealed letter, and she hastily put it in her pocket, aware of Alistair's eyes watching her every move. "Oh, you should have seen him when I told him you'd said yes. I think he was definitely the best choice..."

"Said yes to what?" Alistair interrupted.

"Teagan is escorting Misame to you wedding tomorrow, of course!"

Alistair's face turned thunderous, "Teagan, why not Zevran?"

"I have asked myself that very question, my friend."

Before Misame could answer that it was none of his business who took her where, Leliana's quick mouth saved the angered Mage from her outburst.

"That would hardly look very good would it. I mean, no offence Zev, but she's the hero of Ferelden, she's practically nobility, and to take an elven assassin wouldn't do much for the support of the Grey Wardens. Whereas Teagan is a well loved and powerful ally among the people. Also, if Zevran took Misame, who would take little old me?" She fluttered her eyelashes at the elf.

"Sounds like an offer I cannot refuse," he purred in response. "But right now I feel like I have been run over by a cart load of prostitutes and wine. I may nap here for a while," he yawned, "in preparation for tomorrows, ah, activities." Alistair and Leliana said their goodbyes and turned to leave. Misame kissed Zeveran on the forehead. "Thank you, Zev," she said as she followed her companions out of the room, and shut the door behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

"**There are no flowers, no not this time,  
There'll be no angels gracing the lines,  
Just these stark words, I find.  
I'd show a smile, but I'm too weak,  
I'd share with you could I only speak,  
Just how much this, hurts me."**

**AFI- This Time Imperfect**

Alistair had insisted on seeing the new recruits. Leliana lead him down the winding stairs of the castle, asking him endless questions about the wedding digging for pieces of gossip to discuss with the household ladies later. Misame took this opportunity that had him distracted to open the letter from Bann Teagan, it was short;

_My lady,_

_The honour and pleasure is entirely mine. I shall meet you in the morning at the Grey Wardens estate. _

_Your humble servant, Teagan._

She felt a colour raise in her cheeks and her stomach constrict, Leliana was not lying when she said that Teagan was happy. A Bann, telling her, a mage, that he was her humble servant! I must not dwell on this, she thought, but a small part of her was lifted by this expression of love and gratitude. Leliana opened the repaired front gates and they walked into the courtyard.

Eleven of the potential recruits stood in a wide circle around the twelfth and Sten, who were dueling. Sten easily blocked the trainee elves clumsy parrays and thrusts. Oghern prowled the inside of the circle shouting both abuse and encouragement. Sten got bored with the elve's valiant attempts and easily disarmed him. The longsword clattered to the floor and the Quarani sheathed his own blade. Sten noticed them and nodded in their direction, he never spoke in front of the recruits which, coupled with his fierce mastery of his greatsword, had installed a great respect for him in their mind's. He was happy to let Oghren do the instructing, and the experienced Dwarf rose to the occasion. Misame held a deep hope that they would both stay, but she knew the Quarani would soon return to his homeland. The group turned to face them, and Misame stepped forwards.

"Recruits," she started, feeling that an introduction was necessary. "As you know, I was not the only Grey Warden to survive the treachery at Ostager. Nor was I the only Warden who raised an army, battled the blight and slayed the arch demon. This is Grey Warden Alistair soon to be King of Ferelden. I trust you will listen to any advice he gives and take his word's to heart." She looked to Alistair, expecting to see him awkward and embarrassed at the prospect, but he rose to the occasion excellently. He really had changed, she thought as she listened.

"It is important for you to understand what being a Grey Warden is about. It is more than just slaying darkspawn, we are protectors of the realm who sacrifice everything to quench this flow of evil. We shall not rest until the taint is eliminated. Only the best of you shall make it through, but they shall become revered throughout the ages, and remembered for their unerring bravery and strength. In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice." Alistair sighed heavily. He spoke as though he were still a Grey Warden, now he must speak as their King . "I want you all to know how grateful the crown is to your accomplishments. Let it be noted that those who are chosen to join our number will be rewarded, and their sacrifice's not forgotten. Carry on Oghren."

"Right, you maggots, don't let what his majesty said get to your head. Your still only bleeding recruits and that means you've go a lot of proving yourselves to me before I even think about making you Grey Wardens. Now get back in the Circle. It's my turn to give one of you a dressing down." Alistair, Misame and Leliana stood and watched Ogrhen teach another alienage trainee how to use an axe.

"I'm surprised at how many there are. I thought you'd of found yourself one or two, but twelve! I'm impressed," said Alistair undercover of Oghren's raucous shouts.

"So am I, but to be frank I'm sure more of them are here because of our victory than any other reason. Most of them just want to learn how to wield a weapon, especially the elves. After what happened in the alienage..." Misame's words caught in her mouth as she remembered the horrors that the Loghain had inflicted upon that place. She swallowed, "I would still like to find some well trained recruits. I have written to Irving requesting information on any possible mages, I would truly like to be able to train another Arcane Warrior," she sighed, "But I am sure you have more pressing needs, my lord, do not let us keep you." Alistair looked shocked at her abrupt dismissal of him, but before she could turn and walk off he grabbed her arm. "Wait! I have a favour to ask you," he looked her in the eye. "As you know after the...wedding," he flinched as he said this, "I am going on a tour of the country. I'm going to be gone for two months and Eamon will be acting regent, with Teagan as his advisor. I was wondering if you'd, well, keep them in check as it were. I trust your judgement."

Misame glared at him, the long period without a lyrium potion was making her tetchy and darkening her mood. "I am afraid I cannot be trusted with such power my liege," she spat at him in a whisper, "I am just a lowly mage." She hissed these last two words, turned her back on him and marched through the front door. Maker, I need some lyrium she thought.


	4. Chapter 4

"**I need a big loan, from a girl zone."**

**Tori Amos- Caught a Light Sneeze.**

Leliana had always enjoyed making other people look beautiful. Amongst the ladies of the Orleasian court she was renowned for her skills with hair, and a dab hand at make-up too. The bard had quickly realised that these skills were extremely useful, in getting her into a position of trust with many of the ladies, and then it was just a matter of letting them talk, and discovering their secrets. She was grateful for the skills now because it helped to cheer up Misame. The mage had obviously no idea how alluring she was, and Leliana loved making her aware with it.

Misame felt comfortable in Lelianas bedroom, it was brightly lit with torches and smelt strongly of jasmine and spices. She had knocked on the other girls door in the early evening, after suddenly realising what was happening tomorrow the panic had set in. She had sat crying in front of the mirror, drinking through half her lyrium supply, attempting to give her enough self esteem to face attending tomorrow. She had tugged and pulled at her hair, tried on every dress she owned but simply nothing convinced her she looked confident and beautiful. She thought of Leliana after the realisation that she needed someone to help her. The mage had quickly relaxed with the bard massaging her hair with the pretty smelling oil.

"I have no clue what I'm going to do Liliana. I just can't...feel comfortable in myself anymore," Misame confided.

"This is normal, Misame but you are beautiful young thing full of wit and charm. In time these things you feel will heal, and you will regain your confidence."

"I just, I can't believe that our love was so..small to him. I even offered to just be his mistress, I would have been happy. I've never felt that way about a person before, Lil. I would have fought nail and tooth to keep him, if only he'd been willing to."

"Was he your first?"

"No, I'd had lovers before. The mages circle's atmosphere was often charged with sexual tension, especially between the templars and the mages. Forbidden fruit always tastes sweeter I suppose, but those passions were always fleeting and changing, with relationships and even friendship strictly prohibited. It causes a lot of...problems." An image of Jowan crept into her mind, but she shook it off, that was a guilt for another time. "Alistar was, different." She choked on her rising tears and managed to swallow them.

"Well then he was your first, your first love at least."

"Yes..."

"Oh, my dear, but it is so romantic, torn apart by duty and honour. I think he will see sense soon and come crawling back to you, when he sees you tomorrow he will be sick with envy at Teagan, especially after I have finished with you. There, your hair is done now."

"Can I see it?" Misame asked cautiously."

"Well I was going to do your make up as well, it's always good to have a trial run, especially when you need the confidence. I also have a lovely dress organised for you to wear, I was going to tell you tomorrow but I think now would be suitable."

Leliana opened her wardrobe and showed her a green dress made of heavy velvet, the waist was impossibly small.

"My waist will never fit into that!" she exclaimed.

"It will when it's in one of these," Leliana held out a corset the same colour as the dress and smiled. Misames face dropped. "I've never worn one before..."

"Well you better try it on now and get used to it."

After much struggling and effort Misame was comfortable in the corset and actually found she rather enjoyed wearing it, it felt like a strong hug. After Leliana had finished with her make-up she finally allowed the mage to look at herself in the mirror. Misame gasped, "Oh Thank you Liliana, thank you so much," she felt a geniune happiness and confidence flood back into her, and she embraced her.

"Now go and have a bath, and come see me early tomorrow. Teagan is going to feel like the luckiest man in the world."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Finally justifying the M rating on this. Anyone who gets the Twin Peaks reference, I shall love you forever. Much more to come…**

"**And so a secret kiss  
Brings madness with the bliss  
And I will think of this  
When I'm dead in my grave  
Set me adrift and I'm lost over there  
And I must be insane  
To go skating on your name."**

**Tom Waits- Alice**

As she relaxed into the steaming hot water she let her mind wonder. She was fascinated with her growing friendship with Leliana, she had rarely seen eye to eye with the bard's out look on life and was still not entirely sure that she did now. She remembered sniggering with Morrigan at the bard's belief that the Maker had sent her to join their band of misfits. Misame had grown as a person since then and learned to set aside her cynical views of religion and begrudgingly respect other people's beliefs. She had also learnt that relationships can be more than just about the physical act, Alistair's innocence had taught her how to love, and be patient. To Leliana though, affairs of the heart seemed to be like an intense game of chess, that every move must be thought of way in advance if you wished to achieve your goal.

A sigh escaped her, as she got out of the tub feeling clean and warm, she yawned as she towelled herself dry. Donning her nightgown, she resisted the urge to take a lyrium potion, telling herself that she would definitely need them tomorrow. She lighted an oil lamp and placed it by her bedside table before extinguishing the torch that lit up her room. She kept the lamp burning throughout the night, she had done this ever since she spent her first night without Alistair. She tossed and turned, thinking about him until she fell into a fitful slumber.

_The fade was cold when she entered it. She looked down. She was wearing a corseted white dress, that bloomed out at her hips and had a long train that inhibited her walking. The room she was in was very small but had walls that stretched up into darkness. The floor beneath her feet alternated between black and white tiles. The looming walls were bedecked in huge swathes of red fabric that pleated like curtains but she could not see from where they could be hung. Alistair appeared a few feet in front of her and she ran to him. He held her at arms length. He spoke but it was gibberish, the words sounded guttural and angry. He shook her and repeated the phrase. His grip on her tightened and she felt his hand's digging into her flesh. Then suddenly he released her and his face morphed into a smile. He warmly embraced her, stroking his arm up and down her back. She moaned his name as he gently pulled her lips to his. His hand ran down her neck as his tongue entered her mouth, stroking and caressing hers. He cupped her breast and she shivered into his kiss, making deep moaning noises as she massaged her tongue into his. Suddenly his hand pushed at her chest, so forcefully that she fell to the cold hard floor. Her tongue had scraped against his teeth and was burning. She could taste metal. He grabbed at her foot, his grip as strong as iron. The guttural noises resumed as he pulled her back towards him. This time she could make sense of some of the words he spat, she heard "barren," and "lowly mage." She could feel tears burning on her cheek's as he let go of her foot and crawled up her body until he is fully pressed against her, his look of hatred disappeared. With a blank expression on his face, he lowered his head and whispered in her ear, "Makers breath you're beautiful." She heard a banging somewhere in the distance. Then the floor fell out from underneath her. She was falling..._

She came out of the nightmare with a bump, and took a moment to orientate herself. She realised she could still hear the banging from her dream, and rushed to her bedroom door, fear gripping her heart. The well lit corridor revealed the struggling forms of her two fellow Grey Wardens. Zevran quickly has an unarmed Alistair on the floor with a well aimed kick to the back of the stronger man's knees. A dagger appeared out of nowhere and into Zevrans hand, he put it to Alistars throat. The templar was wearing a heavy black travelling cloak, of which Zevran had cut off the hood.

"Zev, let him up," Misame yawned and stretched.

"Are you sure. I believe he is a dangerous assassin?" he joked as he pushed the blade into Alistair's skin so he bled a little.

"I'm serious, Zev. Let him up."

"And we were just starting to have fun," the dagger disappeared as quickly as it had came and the elf stood and bowed to his commander. "This joining has made me as hungry as a darkspawn, I am going to the kitchens. I will be next door later if you need me for...anything." He winked at her and was gone. She rolled her eyes and tutted, sinking to the floor next to the templar she caught the stench of ale on his breath. He looked at her and grinned foolishly. She put his arm round her shoulder and managed to half drag, half carry him into her room. She plopped him down on the end of the bed and casts an inept healing spell along the flesh wound. As she leaned over him to inspect her handy work Alistair hiccuped into her ear and grabbed her around the waist, forcing her onto his lap. She tried to squirm away from him, punching his chest as well as she could but he just pulled her tighter to him. "No, no," he slurred, "you have to stay put pretty thing, I need to say stuff to you. And don't you try any of your magic tricks on me, I may be drunk, but I'm a templar don'tcher know." This sudden appearance of the old Alistair made her stop fighting. She looked him in the eyes and then relaxed against his chest enjoying the warmth of his strong arms. He didn't say anything for a while, just held her and stroked her hair.

"I've missed you Misame."

She felt all her bitterness drain away to be replaced by the gaping emptiness she felt without him. She submitted, letting him tilt her head up, receiving his warm mouth against hers. His hand moved to the inside of her robe and she gasped at the feel of him against her naked skin. His lips trailed downwards to her neck and he pushed her slowly onto the bed. He opened up her gown fully and looked at her pale body stretched out beneath him. His wet and sloppy kisses went slowly ever lower until she was groaning with desire and anticipation. His mouth found the inside of her thighs, and the gentle kisses makes her hips buck involuntarily. Finally he pressed his mouth against her and she mewled with pleasure, his exploring tongue pressing into her warmth with urgency and lust. Her hands found the back of his head, urging him deeper. Her breathing becomes heavier and he was edged on by her increasingly raspier gasps. She felt the pleasure like sparks up and down her body. He tasted deeper into her and she felt her moment of realise was near. She crescendos, letting out a groan of complete satisfaction. He began to kiss up wards again, and she sat up to tug off his loose fitting shirt. They both fumbled with the lace's of his breeches and soon he is down to his small clothes. As he is running his hands over her breast's, a glint of something silver round his neck catches her eye. She quickly dismissed it as Alistair's kissing gets more urgent. He pushed her back down, rubbing his desire against her heat. He was quickly inside her and she wrapped her legs around him her hips thrusting in time with his own. He arched her back with one hand, lifting her breast up to his mouth. The moaning in her throat became louder with every thrust he took and she began to feel herself coming to climax again. He held her suspended in the air, grinding against her hips faster as her moans got louder. She screamed his name as she climaxed, the feel of her spasm pushing him into coming too. He made a very primal sound deep in his chest as he finished, her nails dug into his back, leaving shallow marks. He collapsed on top of her and she kissed and licked his neck enjoying the scent of his manliness. He shifted off of her after some time and laid down next to her, still holding her close to him. She was adorning his chest with light kisses when she noticed the silver pendent around his neck, she gripped it in her hand examining it closer she realised the carving was a snake eating it's own tail. She could feel a strong power emanating from it, and wondered where he got it from, she had never seen him wear it before. Knowing she would probably not like the answer she closed her eyes and snuggled into his neck. "I'm glad you changed your mind, Ser Templar. I was so scared of loosing you." She felt his body stiffen next to her and he pushed her to arms length.

"I haven't changed my mind, Misame." She looked deep into his brown eyes, searching for some evidence that he was joking.

"But then why are you here, why did you just do that…." she looked at him beseechingly.

"I am weak for you. I meant to come here to just talk, to tell you how sorry I am for hurting you and for leaving you to rebuild the Grey Wardens alone." Misame got out of her bed pulling her gown over her naked body, she shook with rage. "I wanted you to know that I'm going to help you out here more. When I get back from…"

"I don't need your help Alistair. I need you to love me."

"I do love you but I can't let this happen again. I'm so sorry."

"I thought you'd changed your mind! I thought you'd seen that doing your duty doesn't mean you have to punish yourself." Tears were flowing readily down her cheeks now and she covered her face with her hands. "Please Alistair," she muttered, "please keep me as your mistress." Alistair sighed getting out of her bed he started to dress.

"You know I wish things could have been different. Had Eamon thought Anora capable of ruling on her own then I would never have left your side. But that woman is nothing but a power hungry spoilt little girl…"

"So you're going to marry her, that's completely logical." Her body began to shake with her tears. He moved to her as if to embrace her, but she stopped him. "Just get out. You're exactly like your father. One quick tumble and off you run, back to your pretty Queen." Alistair looked crestfallen. He turned his back on her and quickly pulled his shirt over his head, and wrapped his cloak around him. "I truly love you," he whispered to her. Alistar moved to hold her, but her eyes were daggers and her words venomous,

"Just leave." She felt him go and through tears found her way to her lyrium draw. She leaned her back against the wall letting herself slide down till she hit the floor. She drank until she could cry no more. She had no idea how long she sat like that. She must have slept because she remembered being woken up by a soft voice, and strong tanned arms lifting her into bed. And a whispered phrase, "ma belle âme."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"**Everything will be all right,  
Everything will turn out fine  
Some nights I still can't sleep  
And the voices pass with time  
And I keep."**

**Sisters of Mercy- No time for Heartache**

When she awoke the next day she felt disgusting and stiff. Wishing she could erase her memoires from the previous night as she scrubbed herself using the now freezing bathwater. She shivered as she splashed herself, trying to get rid of the stench of him and lyrium. She towelled dry, and wrapped her robe tightly around her. She was glad she did not see Zevran on her way to Leliana's room, and a colour rose in her cheeks knowing that there was no way the astute rouge wouldn't of heard her last night. Leliana's door opened as soon as she knocked. She looked beautiful and Misame could barely believe this was the same woman she had met in chantry robes over a year ago. She wore a long purple gown made out of a light material, her hair was curled and piled high on top of her head. She walked elegantly in shoes Misame would never dream of even trying on.

"I was just coming to get you," Lelinana scorned. "We are quite behind schedule, Teagan will be here soon and it wont do to keep him waiting."

"You look...amazing." The bard giggled as her friend stood agog.

"We shall make quite the pair," she smiled warmly, "but now we must get you dressed and made up." Leliana quickly set to work on lacing and tightening, brushing and styling and deftly applying make up to the mage. Whilst she worked she talked excitedly about being asked to sing at the wedding, Alistair had even brought her a new lute for the occasion and the Orlesian launched into a very one sided conversation about the merit's of her new instrument. Misame just stared at her hands, unable to think clearly.

Within half an hour they both stood in front of the mirror, preening, and giving compliments to each other.

"Thank you so much Lil. There is no way I'd of been able to go without you." She croaked embracing her tightly. The other girl let out a sigh. Holding her at arms length, the bard stroked her cheek.

"Let us get going, my sweet. I'm sure Teagan and Zevran have been waiting at least half an hour and I cannot imagine they have very much in common."

As they passed her room, Misame quickly went in, packing the last of her lyrium into the small clasp bag the bard had supplied her with. She felt a stab of fear knowing that what was left was barely enough to see her through a normal morning, let alone the trauma that today would undoubtedly bring. Knowing that there would be no shops open to replenish her supply she swallowed her rising panic, as she locked her door behind her. They walked in silence down the stairs and to the common area. The only sound came from the bards heel's, and Misame felt a pang of jealousy, feeling like a child in her flat noiseless shoes. There was a roaring fire burning in the room, fighting off the early morning chill. Teagan, Zevran and Oghren were seated in comfortable chairs, the assassin and dwarf both with tumblers of a sweet smelling liquor in their hands. The elf and the man stood as the two women entered, both of them with expressions of awe on their face's. Teagan beamed at her taking her poorly healed hand in his own and brushing it against his lips. "You look beautiful, my lady. I am surely the luckiest man in Ferelden to have this honour," his eyes did not leave her's as he spoke. She blushed and felt an irrational wave of guilt wash over her for her action's last night, imagining if Teagan knew what she had done he would not be so complimentary. She felt Zevran's eyes burning into her, but when she glanced at him he looked away, not meeting her eye.

"The honour is all mine Bann Teagan," she mumbled, "you look very handsome." She looked at him properly for the first time, and found that she was not lying. He wore a dark blue tight fitted jerkin, with darker blue breeches. It showed off his lithe figure well and contrasted with his auburn hair. She realised he was still holding her hand and she shifted uncomfortably. Shaken out of his trance he let her hand slip awkwardly to her side, his hazel eyes still lost in her green ones.

The dwarf coughed behind the two couples. His beady and bloodshot eyes looked her up and down appraisingly.

"You scrub up nicely warden," he complimented gruffly and she gave him a smile.

"Thank you, Oghren."

"We have some time before the ceremony. Lets have a drink," Leliana said and she moved to the crystal decanter as the other three took their seats.

"How are you finding your new residence, milady?" Teagan questioned her, before she could answer Zevran cut in.

"It is rather cold and I am certain that I keep hearing things go bump in the night." The mage glared at the assassin, but he had a sly grin on his face. "Twas probably just my imagination," he conceded seeing the confused look on the others faces. Leliana handed her a crystal glass, and she drank from it deeply, wishing she could slyly tip some of her potion into the cup. This was not possible in present company, especially considering all eyes were on her.

"I admit it is not as glorious as the tales of Amaranthine and a lot more devastated by the blight. But once we have a few more wardens here perhaps I will travel north and set up an outpost."

"I've heard talk that you are training. Are any of them promising?"

"Most of them barely know which way round a sodding sword goes," grunted Oghren. "I'm surprised half of them survived the bleeding blight."

"I admit that they are mostly alienage elves wanting to be taught how to defend their families," she sighed. "But after what they have been through I would not take that opportunity from them." Once again she shuddered thinking of the treachery done to the poor defenceless people. Growing up in the circle meant there was very little overt racism between the elves and men, they were at least there, raised as equals.

"Your kindness is only exceeded by your beauty, milady." She blushed at his words.

"Teagan, please call me Misame. After what we have been through there is no need to stand on ceremony." Her mind drifted to Connor and Isolde and she felt glad that Alistair had convinced her to travel back to the magi for aid, the other options did not bear thinking about.

"Very well, Misame."

"At least you have Zevran to help you now," Leliana spoke and addressed the Antivan, "you are so terribly brave, I could never go through the joining. It is too...mysterious." Leliana bit her lip and looked up at the elves smirking face.

"So your a Grey Warden now Zevran? I never thought of you as the type, but I suppose congratulations are in order. I hear that only the best even survive the joining," the Bann extended his hand to Zevran and the assassin turned Grey Warden shook it firmly.

"I go where I am needed," he said, unusually humble. Misame waited for an inappropriate quip, even she could not ignore the glaringly obvious possibilities of a phrase like that, but it never came.

"Wish I would be extended the same offer," grumbled the dwarf. "Tis not like I can return to Orzammer, I've probably already lost my caste."

"I never knew you felt that way Oghren," the female warden laughed. "Perhaps when we have found some more suitable candidates you can be inducted." The warrior nodded his approval.

"Well, we had better head off to the chantry," Leliana chimed, gulping the last of her drink. They stood, but the dwarf did not move.

"Not coming with us Oghren?" Misame questioned.

"Not bleeding likely. I wont sit through the Chantry's nonsense, not even for a sodding King. I shall be at the party though warden, you can count on that." The group laughed with the dwarf.

"I wish I could be afforded the same grace," Misame giggled. Maker, that liquor was strong on an empty stomach. "Unfortunately I don't think it would look very good for the mage hero of Ferelden to openly snub the Chantry." Or for the ex-lover of the King not to attend his wedding, she added silently to herself, and her stomach flipped at the thought. The Bann proffered his arm to her, and she was grateful to accept, happy to have someone to steady her in her tipsiness. The foursome left the estate in the cold morning air and Misame felt a familiar nausea return as she thought of what was about to happen to the man she loved so very much.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"**I did my best, it wasn't much  
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch  
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you,  
And even though,  
It all went wrong,  
I'll stand before the Lord of Song  
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah."**

**Leonard Cohen- Hallelujah**

The streets were crowded as they made their way from the noble district to the market square. It seemed that all of Denerim and most of the surrounding areas had filled the cobbled pathways, jostling and cheering as they walked the path that had been lined with guards to the Chantry. Misame could not blame the people of Ferelden, they deserved this celebration after the terrible effects of the blight. After loosing their much loved King to such a terrible betrayal, they seemed happy to accept the young and handsome man who filled Cailan's gap so well. The crowd gave an almighty cheer as she, Teagan, Leliana and Zevran entered the district, and she felt her stomach lurch. She would rather face the whole damned blight again, archdemon and all, if it meant she could be somewhere else. Teagan felt her discomfort and squeezed his arm tighter to hers.

"I know how hard this must be for you," he mumbled closely to her ear. She looked at him, assuming that he must of mistaken her nervousness as fear of the crowd. Then he surprised her;

"I know you love him very much." Her eyes widened with shock but he just patted her hand as they stood before the open chantry doors. Leliana and Zevran were directed to seats by a Templar in shining plate. She felt awkward as they left her side, staring after her friends beseechingly, wishing she could follow them to their seats, to hide behind the many nobles who jostled in front of them. Their Templar however directed the Bann and her to seats in the front row, she felt panic rise as she realised there would be no escape, no distractions, this horrible event was going to happen meters away from her, and there was nothing she could do about it. Teagan greeted many of the nobles as they passed, she kept her head down not wanting any recognition, wishing she could just fade away into the background. As they took their seats on the hard wooden pews, she heard her's and Teagan's name said in greeting and she jolted her head up. Arl Eamon and Arlessa Isolde were seated next to them, and she felt a pang of fear knowing their would be conversation. She felt if she opened her mouth she would be sick, embarrassing herself and ruining the event. She nodded a greeting towards the pair, and luckily Teagan took over the reigns as she stared into her lap feeling like a lost child. Isolde and Eamon were full of questions for the mage, but she answered all of them using one word, every time she spoke her stomach felt like it would come out of her mouth. Teagan's arm had left hers, but now he gripped her hand in his own as he continued the polite conversation with his brother and sister in law. His touch felt warm and soothing, and she squeezed back feeling a surge of gratitude to him for his understanding. Eamon saw their entwined hands and raised a quizzical eyebrow at Teagan, who smiled dashingly back at his brother, the matter was not pushed further. Soon the gathered nobility fell silent, waiting in anticipation for their Queen, and soon to be Kings arrival. Neck's craned in the direction of the chantry doors. Misame stared resolutely forward and soon a massive cheer went up from the crowd outside heralding their arrival.

"Oh Maker, Anora looks beautiful," she heard the Arlessa gush and Teagan's hand tightened around her own. She glanced backwards and swallowed the rise of bile in her throat. Alistair was bedecked in the golden armour of his rank, he looked strong and handsome, but his face was a mask of grim determination, his eyes not on his lovely fiancée but searching the sea of people. She knew his eyes searched for hers, and she turned to face the front before he could find them, knowing if they did she would weep uncontrollably. There were many cries and gasps of appreciation from the gathered aristocracy, and she heard Isolde exclaim about how they looked so good together, coming down the aisle, their arms linked. Misame bit the inside of her mouth, desperate to escape this horrible place, wishing Alistair would stop it all, pick her up in his arms and run far, far away from this nightmare. She fought the tears that rose in her eyes, and just managed to succeed. Of all the things she had survived; the harrowing, the joining, the defeat of the blight, this was to be her hardest challenge to date. She felt the strong hand around her own give her another reassuring squeeze , her fear deflated at the touch and she felt herself lean onto Teagan's shoulder. He smiled warmly down at her familiarity. "Do not fear, my sweet, it will all be over soon," he breathed so only she could hear. She managed a small smile back at him, as the regal couple reached the alter in front of them. Determined that she would see this through she recited the chant of light, over and over again in her head, longing very much to dip into her purse and drain the content of all the lyrium it contained. She ground her teeth together as she heard his voice speak the vows of the chantry ceremony, that she had fervently believed that he would one day say to her. She distracted herself by studying the décor in front of her delving into her education the circle had forced about the lore of the religion. The stained glass window in front of her depicted the second sin; the death of Andraste. The flames that licked the prophets feet looked rather real with the rising sun filtering though them, her face resolute and set, almost a mirror of the woman who was distracting herself. Misame sighed inaudibly and felt her fear and sadness drain to be replaced by a vast blankness. She watched the rest of the long ceremony distantly, aware of what was being said but not allowing herself to be taken in. It would all be over soon, she repeated Teagan's words over and over in her head until they meant nothing any more.

To her utmost surprise she found that the Bann had been correct, soon she heard a cheer go up around her and she refocused herself back into the room. The King and Queen stood before their appreciating audience. Anora wore a look of pure elation on her face as the crowd chanted as one;

"Long live the King. Long live the Queen."

Alistair was staring at the mage, his sad eyes met hers and only Teagan's restraining hand kept her from vaulting over the pew and into the newly wed grooms arms. The bells ringing in joy felt like a death knell, as man and wife descended from the altar and walked back along the aisle. The cheers around felt mocking to her own deep depression as she rose behind Teagan, ignoring the happy chattering of Isolde and Eamon. She gripped the Bann's arm as though it were a raft in a deep, black sea. She followed, feeling completely alone in this swarm of cheerful, exultant people.


	8. Chapter 8

"If you want to save her,  
First you have to save yourself,  
If you want to free her from the hurt,  
Don't do it with your pain,  
If you want to see her smile again,  
Don't show her you're afraid."

**HIM- Circle of Fear **

There had been a banquet. She had sat next to Teagan and only her Grey Wardens hunger had allowed her to eat. She remembered many toasts and speeches, some had acknowledged the newly crowned King, and some had been thanking the Maker for her valiant and courageous effort's in ending the blight. She had drank a lot of wine in an attempt to fight off the need for lyrium and now her head was swimming. Misame had sat stoically through it all, and now her love and his bride were descending onto the floor in front of them to start the dancing. She took this distraction to her advantage and sneaked out of the hall and into a deserted corridor. She leaned against the cold walls and her shaking hand's opened the clasp of her bag. She was drinking her third potent lyrium potion when she heard the door behind her opening. She nearly choked as she felt a strong hand on her shoulder, and she swallowed the liquid too quickly. Coughing and spluttering she whirled around and met the concerned face of her escort. Bann Teagan patted her on the back as she choked for air, the bottle crashing to the ground and smashing around her feet. She felt air fill her lungs and his strong arm steadied her.

"I did not mean to cause you such a fright," he said simply. They both knelt to the ground to clear up the sharp debris.

"I just needed a breath of fresh air," she lied, obviously. Teagan sighed as she deposited the shards of glass into a nearby waste basket.

"I thought that only Templars were addicted to lyrium." She met his intense stare, and then faltered, feeling ashamed at being discovered by this man who had helped her so much. She thought of insisting that she wasn't addicted, that she'd just needed it today, but she felt that lying to him was unnecessary.

"I don't think it is usual for a mage. We tend to be able to withstand the addictive effects, but recently..."

"How long..." the question died on his lips, he knew the answer. He offered her his arm, "Let us walk for a while." Happy for a distraction she took his arm and he lead her out into the palaces sprawling grounds. They walked in silence for a while. The gardens had been almost completely destroyed by the blight, but some parts remained intact, and these served to be more beautiful for the surrounding desolation. They found a quiet bench where they sat, basking in the warmth of the glorious summer day.

"I suppose it can't of been easy growing up in the circle." It sounded questioning, and Misame let her mouth take over.

" It was quiet difficult, but I had never known anything else. I think I was born in Highever, but I was very young when I began to exhibit signs of magic. I don't remember anything of my father or mother, so I had nothing to compare it too. Now I see the freedom of the world, that people are allowed to carve their own path in life, and when I look back I see that a mage's life is no life at all. We are granted nothing, worse than slaves, not allowed to experience friendship or peace or happiness or...love." Her voice faltered at the last word. Teagan covered her hand with his own, and she turned hers over so their palms were facing each other.

"A wiser man than I once said, 'better to have loved and lost than never loved at all.'" The word's hit home, and she felt a lonely tear fall down her cheek. She let it fall, feeling the lyrium relaxing her and ebbing away her sadness.

"How did you know?"

"I am not as ignorant as the ways of the heart as my brother. Although I don't doubt that he loves Isolde, it was never true passion. I saw the way you looked at each other at Redcliffe. He did not just look to you for leadership and guidance, but for something deeper," The Bann sighed and it sounded sad. "It has been a long time since I myself felt such devotion, though it seems to be coming back to me now." She felt his hand stroking hers, and she looked up at him. "But that, my beautiful lady, is for another time." He stood abruptly as if embarrassed. "I think we should return to the party, I'm sure there will be talk if I keep you to myself for too long." A wry grin appeared on his face as she threaded her arm though his.

The lyrium had given her back her discipline and control, she gripped a glass of wine as Teagan introduced her to the nobility of Ferelden. Most were congratulatory and thankful for her efforts in the blight but some still seemed extremely wary of her, and she knew this was because she was a mage.

Teagan had become unwittingly embroiled in a discussion with a Bann who was neighbour to Rainsfere when she spied Alistair making a beeline for her. She quickly made her excuses and slid off into the crowd, her face down. She became glad for her shortness and was able to manoeuvre far better than the baulky armoured warrior. She took a glance behind her to see that Teagan had waylaid the new King allowing her to make it past the dancing couples and blend into the people on the other side. Misame looked around her, desperately looking for a face among the crowds of multi coloured silk and velvet. A hand clamped down on her shoulder, she was sure that Alistar had somehow managed to shake off Teagan. She spun around and was met with another unfamiliar face. The man's hair was a dark black and he wore a few days of stubble, he was slightly older than she and a strange smile played across his lips. He was a soldier, she distinguished as his large frame was not hidden at all by his fine clothes.

"The Hero of Ferelden I believe," he grasped her free hand in his and brushed it against his lips.

"Ah.. yes your...um...Ser. But.. er.... I believe you have me at a disadvantage..."

"I am Fergus Cousland, milady." Misame felt the blood drain from her face. There was no Teagan here to help with dealing with the nobility. She decided to curtsy but fumbled as he still had hold of her hand. The blood quickly returned, her face hot with embarrassment but the Teryn laughed.

"You are the saviour of Ferelden, there is no need for you to curtsy to me. I have much to thank the Grey Wardens for."

Duncan had told her of helping the Teryns sister out of Highever castle after Howle's betrayal. She was a renowned rouge and he had been at her home hoping to conscript her but she was injured almost fatally during the escape. The mage still remembered Duncan bursting through the doors of the Circle covered with the blood of the pale woman on his back and shouting for a healer. She smiled as she thought of this twist of fate that had brought Duncan to her.

"I remember you sister, my lord. I hope she fairs well." The nobles face split into a smile.

"Elissa is recovered, in no small part due to your order, though being at Highever is taking it's toll," the man shifted uncomfortably and Misame felt her heart go out to to him, the Blight had cost Fergus nearly his whole family.

"She would be very welcome to join our ranks still if she so desired."

Fergus grimaced at her suggestion and now the mage's face fell at his displeasure.

"Oh I am sure she would readily take up your offer, Warden, but I have such little family left. She must stay at Highever, to help me rule, at least until I am remarried."

A wave of guilt fell over the mage for discussing this very personal matter with a man she barely knew, not just a man but the most powerful noble in the Kingdom. She retreated into herself staring into the glass in her hand when Fergus broke the silence.

"I was wondering if you'd care to dance, milady."

Misame's eyes widened and she took a large gulp of her wine. Her surprise made her forget her manners.

"You..you want to...dance with me?" Misame knew she shouldn't be so surprised, it was after all, a party, how could she of been so ill prepared for this. Mages were never expected to socialise outside of the circle, and dancing certainly had never been on the curriculum. Leliana had been her only dance partner, and that was just playing around. Why had the bard not warned her?

Luckily the Teryn had taken her shock for modesty and was taking the glass out of her hand and putting it on a table behind them. He took her and steered her to the dance floor. Her cover was spectacularly blown. The music was relatively slow and Fergus soon realised that she was not a proficient dancer so took to teaching her, mumbling instructions in her ear. She was glad of this familiarity, especially as Alistair was intently watching the pair as they whirled around the dance floor. His obvious jealousy fanned her confidence and she moved her body slightly closer to Fergus to which he gave smile. As they span she saw that Alistair was not the only person glancing her way, many of the people were openly staring at the mage and the noble. Soon the music stopped and he was bowing to her, she curtsied back to him.

"Shall we perhaps go somewhere..." But before Fergus could finish his proposition the King was upon them.

"May I have this dance, milady?" Now all eyes were upon the mage, there was a raw anger building in her stomach. She dare not refuse him lest it spark up rumours of their fiery relationship, of which there was all to many in the first place. Before she could reply the Teryn had bowed away and Alistair had grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. He put his hand on her hip and she felt electric shocks jolt up her back. She was glad that the golden armour meant he had to steer her at arms length if he got any closer she was sure she would melt. She refused to look at him, instead electing to stare at their moving feet.

"You look beautiful," Alistair mumbled in her ear. Her head snapped up and glared at him, part of her wanted to kiss him and part of her wanted to kill him. She swallowed and said through gritted teeth.

"I'm sure your noble wife would appreciate your attention more than me, your majesty." Sarcasm was her best defence, she decided. Alistair grimaced as he always did at his title.

"I...just...I wanted to..Maker Misame...why do you have to make this so...difficult. I want to be friends..."

"Friends don't break into other friends quarters and friends certainly don't do what you did last night." He looked appropriately ashamed at her comment and they danced in silence for a while.

"I made such a mistake letting you make me King. If only..."

"Don't Alistair," her voice was breaking with sadness and anger. She could not bear the longing, sad expression on his face as she looked at it, and she softened. "I'm sorry Alistair. I know you wanted this the least out of everyone, but you have a duty to Ferelden and to your wife. If you feel that being with me would sully your honour then so be it."

"You know I shall always love you..."

"No Alistair, you wont. Anora is a strong woman, you will grow to love her. Especially when she is pushing out your heirs." His face dropped at this, and they resumed their stony silence for the rest of the dance. When the music stopped she quickly curtsied, he was about to say something but she had left, vanishing into the crowd. He felt an arm slip through his and the cold voice of his wife met his ear.

"I'm sure a barbarian mage such as her has no talent for dancing, husband. I shall show you how a graceful lady moves."

Misame had broken through the back of the onlookers to the dancing, she's had enough of ducking and diving and being polite. She had inelegantly shoved people aside to make a break for the doorway beyond, determined to go home and bash the hell out of a practice dummy. She had made it to the nearly empty hallway when she felt arms snaking around her waist and grabbing her. She turned, ready to lash out at her captor but Zevran's gleaming golden brown eye's stopped her. He pressed tightly up against Misame, and forced her to step backwards so they were pressed against a stone wall, in a dark corner. Once again she was sure the elf was going to kiss her and once again he did not. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, mixing with his smell of spices. His stare was intense, she could not bare to look away, but it was surprisingly him who broke eye contact as he shifted away from her sightly, looking at his feet.

"You cannot leave yet, my love. There are people who want to see you and honour their saviour."

"Zev, I..."

He put a calloused thumb to her soft painted lips, using the palm of his hand to cup her cheek. The elf sighed and once again met her eyes.

"My dear, I have been putting off saying this to you in the hope that you would recover yourself, but it is not like you to languish in self pity and now I think it is time you stopped." She opened her mouth to protest but he hushed her again. "There are people at this party who love you Misame, you must see them, drink with them, celebrate that you are alive with them. Forget about the boy King, he is not man enough to take you for his own, and he never will be." She felt tears welling up in her eyes, but he brushed them away before they could fall onto her cheeks. "The best cure for a broken heart my dear, is lots of alcohol and good company, here you have both." The sad smile that she gave Zevran made him embrace her tightly. He entwined his fingers in her own and she was shocked at how natural and familiar his touch was. "Come, there is someone who has been waiting to see you."

Wynne had never been one to flourish at parties, motherly advice was her foray, not making small talk. Word had got round however of her close relationship with the King and Misame, and she had been inundated with requests for meetings with one of the two, she had brushed them aside pointing out that she was an advisor not a secretary. Her new role as Court Mage had been a point of contention among the Landsmeet and the nobles were not the sort to hold their tongue's when it came to such matters. Some abhorred the idea of the mage being so close to royalty, saying it was an offence against the maker and muttering about 'the Tevinter Imperium scum.' The Revered Mother had been the most vocal of the opposition, demanding that Wynne should have a templar with her at all times. Alistair, Eamon and many other Banns had put this idea to death, but the most outspoken had been Bann Teagan. Wynne had wondered on this and when she heard that Teagan would be escorting Misame, pieces fell into place. She took a glass of wine from a passing waiter, sipping it she was glad if she had taught the King one thing it was a good taste for alcohol. She sighed.

The very drunken Bann, who's name she could not remember, had sought Wynne out to grumble about the chantry's control at the Landsmeet. The mage had been looking for a reason to get away from this man, he was dribbling slightly and his eye's had not moved from her bust as he was speaking. His behaviour made her think of a slightly older, and much less articulate Zevran. As if merely thinking about him could summon the elf, he was at her side.

"Excuse me Ser, but I must borrow this most delectable mage it is a matter of great import.," he grabbed Wynne's arm and steered her to a quieter part of the hall. When they stopped there was an awkward silence and she became concerned at what the elf had to say.

"Do you know where Alistair was last night?"

Wynne raised an eyebrow at the elf, and noticed his usual impassive mask had slipped, his brow was furrowed with worry, and he still had a firm grip on her arm.

"He told me he was going to the Gnawed Noble Tavern with Teagan and some of the younger Banns. I assume from your expression that is not where he ended up."

The elf hissed, and let go of Wynne's arm and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I found him sneaking around outside Misame's room, I nearly cut his throat."

Wynne rolled her eye's, "And what exactly were you doing there?" Wynne thought she saw a slight blush on the assassin's cheeks.

"She has been having...nightmares. I...You haven't seen her Wynne. She has been a mess since the landsmeet, and Alistair is not helping."

Wynne sighed, she had known this would end like this. She had told Misame as much, but this did not mean she did not feel for the younger mage.

"I shall talk to them both, but not tonight. Maybe some time away would do her the world of good."

There was a commotion from the nobles around the door and Wynne turned in time to see a motion blur of green and red heading for the hallway. When she turned back Zevran had gone.


	9. Chapter 9

_AN: This chapter was hard to write, but the proper storyline is going to start to kick in next chapter. I promise I know where this is going, even if I fear I lack the necessary skills to take you there, and my updates are sparse at best._

_Less Angst this time and lots of yummy Zev, enjoy..._

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"**A friend in need's a friend indeed,  
A friend who'll tease is better."**

Placebo-Pure Morning

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The grand hall had emptied with the leaving of the King and Queen. When a coach came to collect them, the party had moved into into the courtyard and was spilling onto the streets of Denerim. The coach's gold exterior glinted in the sunlight mimicking the shine of the couple's clothes and hair. The thirty marbari who had been harnessed into the golden spectacle were grunting and barking adding to the crescendo of noise from the gathered nobles. Misame stood with a clear view of the scene, Zevran's arm tightly wound around her waist. When the elf saw Alistair's eyes linger in their direction he pulled her flat against him and ran his lips along the edge of her ear.

Soon after the royals had left, with an escort of soldiers to whom the marbari were imprinted, the nobles quickly made a fuss of leaving, each wanting to get to their estate quickly lest the newly-weds decide to visit their Bann or Arling.

A handful of people still sat around a table whilst servants picked up the debris left by the nobles. Their laughter and singing rang and echoed off the high ceiling, along with the plucking of a lute. Candle's were lit to ward off the coming darkness.

Misame had been shocked at Leliana's knowledge of bawdy pub songs, and even more so when all of her campaigns joined in, even Wynne and Teagan. Her open mouth and raised eyebrow had only spurred them on however as the song got ruder and louder. Although Misame knew none of the words she was surprised to find herself drunkenly cackling along with the others. It ended when the former lay sister had incited a particularly crude verse about the Grand Cleric, who had, unknown to the bard, walked up behind her. Leliana looked confused at everyone's sudden silence and Misame had bent down and clutched her fist in her mouth to stifle the rising giggles. The holy woman's face had been a mask of disapproval and the bard had taken the full force of her anger with a blush on her cheek's. Oghren's full bellied laughter had covered the angry whispers of the woman, and finally she had given up her rampage and stalked out of the room, glaring and shaking her head as she went.

The table in front of them was littered with bottles and glasses. Misame had lost count of the amount of drinks had been pushed on her by the others, especially Oghren who it seemed always had another bottle of wine or ale secreted about his person. She grinned at the dwarf as he poured her another large glass of the warming red liquid.

The Circle had never allowed their apprentices to drink. It had been the dwarf who had introduced her to alcohol, after the horrors of the deep roads. Thinking of this night gave the mage an excellent idea.

"Let's play a drinking game," she blurted out. Oghren laughed appreciatively.

"Didn't you get enough in Orzammar, warden?" Misame flushed, memories that had previously been locked carefully away in her mind returned and she looked into her lap wondering if she had actually done that. Her eye's met Zevran's and from the twinkle there she knew she had. She let out a groan and slumped her head into her hand's.

"Now this is a tale I've got to hear," she heard Teagan exclaim.

"Are you sure? I've killed an Archdemon you know, navigated my way through Dwarven politics, saved a clan of Dalish from werewolves, those are stories worth hearing." She peaked out from behind her fingers at the man sitting next to her. "I hardly think that this little indiscretion is worth a story."

"Indiscretion? I'm not quite sure that Morrigan would appreciate you calling it that," Leliana smiled.

"Yeh, from the look on the swamp witch's face she enjoyed it. I know I did," Oghren's dirty laugh and the bard's musical giggles echoed around them as Teagan's grin grew and Misame felt rather than saw Wynne rolling her eye's as she clucked disapprovingly.

"Had I known your plan's Oghren I would never have let you take watch," Wynne glared at the dwarf, "I still haven't forgiven you that, you know."

Oghren looked as though he were about to retort, when Teagan held up his hand, dramatically.

"My intrigue is at breaking point, please someone tell the story."

"I shall tell it," said Leliana a smile and a gleam in her eye's.

"Alright, alright," sighed Misame, "But you shall do so without embellishment. I know you, woman," she pointed a swaying finger at the bard, who's grin widened.

"And how will you know if I embellish, it's not like you remember," Misame groaned, "And in truth it has no need of exaggeration." As Leliana spoke Misame remembered.

_She had been frustrated._

_Alistair's hesitancy and unsure hand's were going to be the undoing of her. After every intimate moment she was left wanting far more than he was ready to give, and it had left her burning with desire._

_Zevran knew. It seemed to be his turn on watch every time she skulked out of Alistair's tent, unable to stand any more of his passionate kisses and roaming hand's. She always trained, grabbing her sword and running off into the woods to hack at unseen foe's, sometimes they had Alistair's face. And the elf had always found her, stood close behind her in pretence of correcting her stance, whispered instructions into her ear, pressed her against the a tree as they sparred. This is why she elected to leave them both behind when she travelled into the deep roads. _

_Morrigan, Leliana and Oghren stood by side when she saw the horde and the archdemon pass beneath her. It was the swamp witch who held back her hair when she retched at the smell of the broodmother, it was Leliana's arrows who fended off it's tentcles as she cast huge primal spells, and it was Oghren who had carried her back to Orzammer when she had collapsed after defeating Branka._

_She didn't remember choosing Bhelen for King, all she remembered was the burning of the drink Oghren had forced down her throat to wake her up, then Wynne's healing spells, Alistair's shout's at the dwarves for insisting she chose immediately. And then, sleep._

_She started from her nightmare at the touch of her shoulder, Oghren's beady eyes staring up at her and she began to speak when he put his finger to his lip's, pointing at the sleeping form of Alistair in the chair next to her. He motioned for her to get up and she did so groggily. He lead her out in the hallway of the palace to where Zevran stood._

"_What's all this about?" she looked between the two of them questioningly._

"_Warden, this elf here tells me that you've never had a drink before," the dwarf looked at her seriously, his lips pursed and disapproving._

"_You woke me up, no scratch that, you broke into the royal palace to admonish me for this," she whispered angrily, checking up and down the halls for passing guards._

"_Tsk, breaking in is such an ugly thing. No I used my charm of course," Zevran grinned at her raising an eyebrow. Suppressing the horrible thought of Zevran using his very specialised 'charm' on the dwarven guards she swallowed, and started to turn back towards her room when Oghren spoke._

" _I didn't carry your sodding ass back through the deep roads for you to waste it sober. You owe me, woman, and Corra'll let you drink for free at Tapster's, so we're going even if I have to knock you out and carry you again." Something in the dwarves eye's made her grimace, and she knew he was serious. He grinned and patted her roughly on her rump, "let's drink Orzammar dry."_

_Misame looked at Zevran, exasperated, but the Antivan put his arm round her waist and lead her behind the dwarf._

"_Alistairs going to kill you, you know that don't you?" She whispered to him._

"_He'll have to catch me first," he said, and his eye's gleamed. _

"Now let me see," Leliana began, taking a sip from the white wine she was drinking. "I was deeply asleep that night. We had been granted rooms in the royal palace, which is a beautiful building but a terribly confusing layout, I digress. I was awoken suddenly by someone shaking me, and not so gently. Alistair was in my room, shouting, 'Misame, where is she, is she not with you?'" Leliana's impression of Alistair's whine caused the whole table to burst into uncontrollable giggles. "We were both concerned, and roused the whole palace. Alistair got particularly tetchy when he found out Zevran was missing." At this Teagan shifted and looked at the Antivian questioningly.

"Oh, didn't you know? I tried to kill our most delectable warden. Lucky for both of us I failed spectacularly."

"You tried to...what?" Teagan looked at Misame beseechingly, but she waved him off pointing to Leliana.

"Well, eventually we found Wynne who told us that she had given the key to Misame's room to Oghren who said he would watch over the couple. It was Morrigan who had the idea to get Sithis and Sten back from the camp on surface, as the dog had become incredibly restless underground, waiting for his master, and Sten had volunteered to take him out for some exercise. The hound immediately picked up on our need, and followed the scent of his master. We must have been a sight, warriors and mages in a dwarven kingdom following a dog's nose." she sighed and emptied her glass in one swift action.

"I'm surprised Sithis could smell her over the stench of ale from the tavern. We found the three of them, a pack of cards sprawled across the table and Misame unconscious on Zevran's shoulder."

"Aye, I've trained her up since then, only turned over three cards and drunk half a pint before giggling like a school girl and passing out."

"I once drank a thimble of dwarven ale. I woke up a week later in Jader wearing only shoes and a towel," admitted Leliana, "and I'm an experienced drinker."

"I've never had the pleasure.." began Teagan, and Zevran laughed.

"It is not something I'd associate with pleasure my friend. Now a nice Antivan wine..."

"Now let me finish the story, Zev, it's getting to the good bit." Leliana said, excitement in her voice.

"Sithis bounded up to his master and licked her awake, whilst we all stood around silently. Alistair was so angry, he tried to pull Misame away from Zevran, but she insisted she was having fun with her friends and, what was it you said, it was so funny."

Misame blushed and mumbled, "I told him that I was done with silly templar boys telling me what to do. I don't even remember it, but Maker did I hear about it later. I'm sure he never forgave me for that." She shook her head as the other's laughed, bar Wynne whos eye's were so narrow that they had almost disappeared.

"He was terribly worried about you, we thought you had been kidnapped, or worse," Wynne scolded.

"Heh, if you were so worried why'd you give me the key then eh?" Oghren asked, and Wynne blushed.

"I was exhausted, healing magic is not particularly easy to maintain, especially when you can't find the wound."

"That's cause what was wrong was in her sodding head. You try running into a broodmother one day, Wynne, I can tell ya, you'll need a stiff drink afterwards."

"Oghren, you drink before, after and during every battle, broodmother or not."

"Anyway," interrupted Leliana before the mage and dwarf could have at it. "After Alistair sulked off, Wynne at his heels. We decided to stay and keep our drunken mage company. Corra allowed anyone with Misame to drink for free, so we were all rather far gone, even Morrigan had seemed to relax. She told us many tales of her mother, Flemeth's, life and how she had learnt to shapeshift and was hunted by Templars. Zevran told us wonderful and exciting tales of Antiva deep into the night until we all realised that Misame was fast asleep curled up like a cat. We awoke her and started to walk back, Zev and I were in front when we noticed that Misame and Morrigan were no longer behind us. We found them quickly, on the bridge on the way to the provings. They were...entangled." Teagan and Wynne's eye's both widened as they turned to stare at the poor mage. She fiddled with her rings, head bowed.

"Never a more beautiful sight have I witnessed than two utterly gorgeous scantily clad mages foundling atop a bridge over a sea of lava. It was very... steamy." Her cheeks coloured at the Antivan's drawl and she looked up to meet his grin.

"You all kept this very secret, I imagine Alistair knows as little as I did," Wynne's voice seethed objection but as Misame looked there was a twinkle there she could not place.

"My dear Wynne, when an apostate threatens to turn you into a frog you tend to comply with their wishes."

"I always wondered why her though," Leliana slurred, she had drank far more than the other's in an attempt to bolster her confidence for her performance and now she was paying for it. "I mean, Morrigan was mean, she brushed off all our friendships other than your's and well... to be frank I'd asked you once if you had any interest in women and you said no..."

Misame rubbed her temples as the bards word's hung in the silence. Once again her lies were catching up on her. Although everyone treated her like the innocent little circle tower mage, she had not been that for a long time. She had seen Leliana's advances for what they were and dismissed them blatantly before the bard could get hurt. It was not that she didn't find the girl attractive but her ramblings about the Maker had caused Misame to be very wary of the women. She looked up, everyone's gaze was on her.

"It was not really like that Leliana. I remember Morrigan pulling me away, she said she had a gift for me. When we reached the bridge, she gave me a ring. In my somewhat...inebriated state I thought that she was declaring her love for me. I truly believed she was asking me to marry her..."

Oghren's laugh was so fierce he fell back off his chair, eliciting chuckles from the rest of the group as he picked himself up half heartedly trying to rinse out the spilled ale from his beard with his mouth. "So tell me warden," he said between slurps, "did you say yes?"

Misame snorted as she twirled the ring on her finger, "if I had it would hardly matter now, the witch is gone." Even Misame was surprised at the bitterness in her voice and she could hear the uncomfortable shuffling of her companions.

"Do you intend to look for her?" Teagan's question had hit home, she had after all sworn that she would find the apostate.

"Not yet," was her blunt answer she sighed and went to run her finger's through her hair before realising it was neatly coiffed nut in it's usual ratty braids. "Though I do believe I have lingered too long in Denerim, I am feeling the itch of landlocked blues."

"I am to travel to Redcliffe tomorrow, it is time someone over saw the repairs to the town and I am sure Eamon has no need of me here. Perhaps you would join me?"

Misame thought on it and she felt Zevran watching her closely as she made her decision.

"I shall travel with you most certainly, but I shall be going to the Circle, it is time to find some mage recruits." Misame smiled up at her group of campaigns, all anger and self pity washed away by the thought of being on the road again, even if she was travelling back to the place that had been her prison for years.

"I shall come with you, I feel Eamon has little need for a court mage either and it shall be good to go home for a while. After all this excitement." Wynne and Misame smiled at each other.

"I am also accompanying you," Zevran stated and Misame shook her head.

"Someone needs to stay with the recruits Zev..."

"Ah don't be stupid warden, you can bet your sodding life I aint gonna be volunteering to march halfway across Fereleden with you. I'll look after your bleeding heart recruits, let the elf go with you."

Misame beamed at the dwarf, and he gave her a very lopsided smile from underneath his beard.

"Then I will be happy to travel once again with you my Grey Warden brother," she grinned at Zevran, as he mimed an over-dramatic bow. "And what of you, my former lay sister? Care to join us as we traipse around Ferelden looking for fresh blood?"

"I think," the bard slurred, "that I shall stay here, someone needs to keep Oghren in check and Sten's ship leaves in less than a month, so I fear I must stay." Her lips went into a fake pout but she quickly smiled at the mage who was glowing with happiness. It had been too long since she had seen her friend so happy. "But I do declare a toast, to new beginnings!" She raised her glass high above her head, but before anyone could click her glass, she had fallen flat on her face, asleep, on the table.

* * *

Zevran and Misame grunted under the weight of the bard. They had tried to stealth their way back to the Grey Warden compound but the pockets of revellers that were still out at this late hour were very boistrous. Furthermore Misame kept getting embroiled in long winded discussions with the citizens and it soon became very obvious that she was only slightly more sober than the woman who was unconscious over her shoulder. It took all his persuasion powers to steer his fellow warden home safe, but soon the gates of the estate loomed above them. Torches danced in the brackets of the courtyard as Gelden came running towards them.

"Milady, may I help you?" He gestured as if to take Leliana but Misame grunted and shooed him off. The elf fell in behind them and opened the heavy oak front doors.

"Have you been waiting up Gelden?" The elf blushed to his ears and stammered.

"I thought that you would need something milady," she turned as well as she could to face him.

"Could you get me the bottle of whiskey in the common room cupboard, it's locked but I have a sneaking suspicion that it wont be an obstacle for you." The blush now grew up his ears and intensified so the boy looked like a beetroot. "With two glasses, in my room. Oh and here's something for your trouble." She fumbled in her bag for a moment and tossed him a golden coin and flashed him a smile. "Go get yourself some food and some fun." The elf scampered off as they heaved Leliana to her room. After seemly endless flights of stairs and corridors they reached her door and Misame fumbled in the bards bag for her key. After trying the lock several times and missing it by several inches Zevran took the key from her and with dexterous, if tipsy, hands unlocked the door. He dutifully turned around as Misame attempted to undress the bard, but the corset she wore eluded her, and she begrudgingly asked for his help. He turned and laughed at her predicament. Leliana was slumped on the bed with the mage sitting astride her bottom.

"I must say I never imagined this when I thought of us three on a bed," his eye's glinted with mischief and as Misame met his eye's she giggled and blushed. He made quick work of the laces fastening the bard in and once again turned his back to them, a smile on his face knowing that his warden was finally happy and a stirring in his pants at the thought of what he was doing behind her.

When Misame finally wrestled Leliana below the sheets the bard started snoring loudly and she couldn't help but laugh. She threaded her arm through Zevran's and they made there way to her room.

Gelden had been hasty, an expensive bottle of whiskey and two crystal tumblers were on her desk. The elf had started a small fire and Misame put another log on it and cast a spell to intensify the flames. Zevran joined her on the fur rug by the fire and pressed the glass into her hands. There was a long silence between them, but he waited for her to speak, wanting her to open up to him.

"Thank you Zev." He was taken aback by this, and drew his gaze from the fire to look at her, there was a silent tear rolling down her cheek. Resisting the strong urge to gather her in his arms, he took a gulp of his drink.

"What exactly do you have to thank me for, my dear warden?" She turned away from the fire and looked at her lap, fiddling with the strap of her bag.

"You looked after me, through,"she made an expansive gesture, "all this shit."

"I have fought an Archdemon at your side and you think I would abandon you because of a little heart ache and lyrium addiction." Her head snapped up his last words, and eyes met his. He surrendered to temptation, took his leather gloves off, and touched her face which was set in a defiant grimace. Her eye's did not leave his as he stroked the tear off her cheek. He loved her eyes, green orbs flecked with red lines, he had never found eye's like that on any whore, no matter now much he had looked. Her face fell and she cupped his hand in her own, pressed against her cheek.

"I have something for you," she seemed to remember as she put her drink down and bustled about, looking for something. She half sat half fell back into her space with all the grace of a newly born deer. She held out her hand to him in which was a small vial of blood on a thin chain of gold.

"We give them to all new recruits who pass the joining, it's the mixture that you drank. It's supposed to be so we remember those who are sacrificed." He clasped the chain around his neck and smiled at her. "I'm so glad you chose to stay Zev. I am lucky to have such a good friend as you."

"When I said I'd storm the Black City at your side I meant it you know," he went back to stroking her cheek and she met his smile. "I wish to always be by your side." He didn't know where the word's had come from, and his mouth seemed to take over whilst his brain tried to scream at him to stop. "I also have something for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ever present earring. She looked at it quizzically for a moment and gave him a wry smile as she plucked it from his fingers.

"Does this mean we are married in Antiva now?" Zevran gave her a toothy, and he thought almost goofy, grin. His palms were sweating and he no longer felt suave and cool but like a bumbling idiot.

"Do you suggest that to everyone who gifts you jewellery?" Her smile extended until it reached her eye's, it gave him a new wave of confidence to see her truly happy in his company.

"I acquired it on my very first job for the Crows. A Rivianni merchant prince, and he was wearing a single jewelled earring when I killed him. In fact, that's about all he was wearing." She giggled as she thumbed the earring and the sound warmed his heart more than he thought possible.

"I thought it was beautiful and took it to mark the occasion. I've kept it since...and I'd like you to have it." He gulped as her gaze intensified. The way she was looking at him made his stomach burn, he suddenly became aware of how very tight his trousers were. He had to break the stare before his strong resolve broke and he ravaged her. "Feel free to wear it, sell it...do whatever you like with it."

"I would never sell it Zev," the smile in her voice was one he had not heard in a long time and it made his heart soar again. "I would love to wear it." She took out the earrings that Leliana had forced upon her. Biting her lip in concentration she tried to thread the object though the hole that the bard had made, what seemed like years ago, in camp. Zevran came to her assistance, delicately but firmly pushing the jewel into her ear. He was much closer to her here. She smelt like winter. She leaned against him and his heart pounded. This woman confused him beyond anything he had known before, her touch sent fire into his veins. He held her closely as she leaned against him. He began to unpick the pins from her red tresses and they curled and engulfed his hands. He became entranced by the softness and warmness of her body and the fire heat, methodically playing with her hair. It startled him when she gave a tiny snore, and he realised she was fast asleep. He gently woke her and she grinned sheepishly up at him as she stretched her arms behind his head. He lifted her off the ground and she stumbled against him.

"Zev..." she breathed. "The room is spinning and...arh." She leaned her forehead against his shoulder. "This is going to sound pathetic but will you help me undress? I don't think I could do this corset thing." He could not believe the amount of excitement the thought of her naked elected from him. He had seen hundreds of naked bodies in his life, hers was just one more. Why was he bashful? Why was he shaking. Without giving an answer he began to undo the buttons at the back of the dress and soon it pooled at a floor at their feet. Her front was pressed against him as he loosened the corset and when he had finally finished she gasped at the realise from the tightness. He was suddenly aware how very close she was to him, her naked breasts and bear hips pressed against him. She moved slightly in his arms and looked up at him. He resisted the temptation to hold her at arm's length and drink in the sight of her pale soft body. Suddenly her lips were pressed against his, he stumbled at the force of it but soon succumbed to her advances. He pushed his tongue between her lips and into her mouth tasting her as he held her at the head and the hip, closer to him. The passion of the kiss was tinged with the taste of alcohol, and this served as a visceral reminder to Zevran that she was drunk.

When she pulled away from him she stepped backwards and the assassin let out a moan. Her breasts were the perfect handful's he knew they'd be, and her small light pink nipples were hard with desire. His eye's drifted upwards to the smile on her lips and those eye's that burned into his own.

"Come to my bed, Zev," she murmured stroking patterns on his palm.

"You must be a desire demon, my beauty, but you are also incredibly drunk. I prefer my victims to be a hundred percent aware at all times," he whispered in her ear.

"But I can tell you want me," she pouted and drew a finger up the length of his now extremely tight trousers. He hissed and she grinned at the response.

"Take me, Zev."

He took another long look at her naked body, committing every curve, every scar, every freckle to memory.

"I...I can't," he let go of her hips and she stumbled backwards onto the bed. His loins were screaming at him to ravage this beauty now, but his mind won over. He kissed her chastely on her cheek and quickly left the room, before his resolve broke. He was glad that The Pearl was open all night.


End file.
